Statutory
by Never Walk
Summary: After a little coaxing, Harry goes to a rave where he meets the man of his dreams. But will their age differences keep them apart?
1. Meeting

Title: Statutory  
  
Author: Never  
  
Pairing: Harry/Snape  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd be a much happier person...but I don't.  
  
Warning: AU, slash, chan  
  
Summary: After a little coaxing, Harry goes to a rave where he meets the man of his dreams. But will their age differences keep them apart?  
  
Author's Notes: The idea suddenly dropped on me and I had to write it immediately before I forgot it, as I tend to do.  
  
***  
  
I remember exactly how I met him. Fred had talked me into going to a rave. I'm still not quite sure why he was there, since he was a little too old and he doesn't enjoy partying. But I'm glad that he was. He's changed my life, and he constantly tells me that I've changed his.  
  
As we lay here together, on a blanket under the stars, I remember the first day I met him.  
  
***  
  
"Come on, Harry, it'll be fun," Fred told me as we walked home after school on a Friday afternoon.  
  
"Fred, I'm not so sure. I mean, have you ever been to a rave?"  
  
"No, and neither have you, so don't try and tell me what they're like. Harry, have you ever done anything against the rules?"  
  
Glancing out the corner of my eye, I laughed, "You do that enough for the both of us."  
  
Once we reached my house, he stopped to turn and look at me as sternly as he could, "Harry, you're coming. No more arguments. I'll pick you up tonight at nine." Before I could protest, he was already walking away.  
  
***  
  
Later that night, just as he said, Fred knocked on my door at nine, dressed in blue jeans and a tight collared shirt that only had one button fastened. He had never looked so sexy, and I had never felt so...not.  
  
"You aren't wearing that, are you?" he asked.  
  
After seeing his clothes, I decided that it was certainly time to change, but I had nothing to wear. I was only 16 at the time. I'd never been to clubs or gone partying, ergo, I had no partying clothes. My voice low, I replied, "I don't have anything else to wear."  
  
"I figured as much," Fred tossed a bag at me that I hadn't noticed him carrying, "they're your size, so go on and get dressed."  
  
Without looking in the bag, I smiled up at him, "Thanks, you're a life- saver."  
  
***  
  
"I hate you," I said under my breath as I walked into the rave wearing a nearly transparent white shirt and black leather pants that, according to Fred, perfectly outlined my ass. As self-conscious as I was to be at a rave, it was nothing in comparison to how I felt in those clothes. But as Fred put his arm around my waist and gathered me close, ushering me directly to the dance floor, my nervousness faded slightly.  
  
Much to my surprise, people around me, boys and girls, watched me dance. At first I had thought that I was so out of place that they were secretly laughing at me, but after I caught a clear look of lust in the eyes of a man a few feet away, I could only grin and try to dance as erotically as I could.  
  
I hadn't known it at the time, but that was when he first noticed me. Though, I had already noticed him standing against the wall, idly scanning the large warehouse with a drink in one hand and the other hanging onto a belt loop. He looked so hot in plain clothes that I wanted to go over and offer myself to him. But his mysterious, sexy air had everyone else drooling over him, so I thought that I didn't stand a chance.  
  
The night went on, and I never left Fred or the dance floor, despite how much I wanted to. But the sticky floor and cloud of smoke were starting to annoy, and the sweat was making my clothes cling impossibly closer to my body. "Fred, I've got to get some air!" I shouted over music so loud that the walls vibrated.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Using hand signals, I repeated, "I need air! I'll be right back!" Before he could reach for me and convince me to stay, I moved through the crowd as best I could. I bumped into one person, only to be knocked into another, and then another. After a few moments, I finally cleared the crowd only to be pushed into the sexy stranger's chest. His hands were on my arms, having dropped his drink when he saw me stumbling into him.  
  
"S-sorry," I murmured, my jaw hanging open. With him being at least five inches taller than me, it's a little awkward to look up at him when he was still holding me so close.  
  
"And after watching you dance, I thought you were graceful," he smirked down at me.  
  
My brain had stopped working as soon as he said that he saw me dancing, so the rest of his sentence was lost to me. I only know what he said now because he has often told me his side of the story of that night. 


	2. Leaving

He looked down at me, as if expecting me to say something, but I couldn't seem to form words. What could I have said that would have remotely interested him? So, without a sound, I tried to back away, but his hands were still gripping my arms. I glanced down to see his thumb gently moving the material of my shirt back and forth.  
  
Strange how I hadn't noticed it until that moment, but once I did, it was all I could think about. The way the silky material barely caused any friction against my skin, the way I could feel the warmth of his flesh through the sheer sleeves. It all hit me at once, and suddenly, I felt malleable. I felt like he could mold me however he chose and I would gladly take the shape he desired, just to keep those hands on me.  
  
Then he smiled, and I found myself wondering if he could read my mind. How else would he know the exact moment to glory in his power over me?  
  
Seemingly without any movement, we were outside. I wouldn't even have noticed it if it hadn't been for the beads of sweat on my skin that chilled me when a cool breeze came through. It ruffled my already disastrous hair, but only made his longer, dark hair dance to one side. If I wasn't spellbound before, I would have been lost in that instant.  
  
"That's better," he whispered against my ear. When had he gotten that close?  
  
He still hadn't released me. Instead, it felt like I was closer to him than before, which seemed impossible, since we had already been chest-to-chest. But, somehow, it happened. His hard proof was pressing against my stomach, which made my equally hard proof press against his thigh.  
  
"Are you always this quiet?"  
  
My mouth opened, but still nothing came out.  
  
He quirked an eyebrow, his shadowy eyes intent on me. "Perhaps I can loosen your tongue."  
  
And that was all the warning I had before he leaned down to kiss me. But kiss wasn't really the right word. It was so much more than that. At the first gentle touch of his lips, my eyes closed, which made every sensation all the more powerful. I felt his hot breath against me a second before he spoke again.  
  
"Open."  
  
My brain didn't even have time to process the command; my mouth understood and allowed him in. Gently, he backed me up against a wall, then let his hands migrate down. Not to any erogenous area, but to my hands to intertwine our fingers. It was such a romantic gesture that tears formed in my eyes.  
  
He immediately moved his lips away from mine and studied me. "Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"  
  
Opening my eyes, I tried to sniffle as delicately as I could. "I-I'm sorry. It's nothing...we can continue...if you want."  
  
Smirking, he answered, "So, you do speak. I must admit that I was worried for a few minutes. You see, I love talking after sex, and our post-coital conversation would be greatly lacking if it was one-sided."  
  
My jaw dropped again and he took it as an invitation, moving in closer to invade my mouth.  
  
"Harry? Harry, where are you, mate?" Fred called.  
  
I forced myself to pull away and answer my friend, "Over...over here." My voice was so breathy and dark, I barely recognized it, and therefore, was surprised when Fred approached. But the surprise wasn't just mine; I could read it on Fred's face. Though who could blame him when he came upon some stranger wrapped around his best friend?  
  
"Harry?" the stranger whispered into my ear, sending chills all over my body. Despite my best attempt to remain in control of myself when Fred was watching, I whimpered and moved closer to the older man.  
  
Fred tried to get my attention, "Harry, you ready to go?"  
  
"Stay with me..." the soft voice urged.  
  
It took all my strength to turn to him and refuse. "I'm sorry, but I...I have to go."  
  
"When will I see you again?"  
  
I licked my lips in thought, but had to look away before I gave in to the lust that instantly appeared in his eyes. "Tomorrow? Every Saturday I go to the rugby game at the park..."  
  
He interrupted, "I know what game you're talking about, but only high school kids go there."  
  
"I know, why do you think I go?"  
  
His body tensed as he leaned back. "You like high school boys?"  
  
I couldn't help but laugh. "I am a high school boy. What did you think?" I still can't forget the instantaneous transformation of his face when the meaning of those words sunk in. His eyes turned cold and hard, and he walked away right then without a word or a look back. And suddenly, I felt cold, colder than I had ever felt before. I was lucky that Fred was there to hold me, or I might have fallen to the ground and turned into a block of ice. 


	3. Seeing him again

The next day at the rugby game, I sat at the top of the small bleachers for two reasons. First, from my somewhat high position, I could be sure to see anyone approach, especially the stranger from the previous night. Second, it made me a prominent spectator, so that I could be seen from a distance, making it easy for the stranger to spot me.  
  
Unfortunately, it was all in vain. He never appeared. I sat in the stands for two whole hours after the game was over and there wasn't the slightest sign of him. But that time, I didn't have Fred with me. I was there alone.  
  
I didn't even know his name, but I was heartbroken. Sitting there, I wept, for the first time in my life, I truly wept. And it wouldn't be the last, at least not where he was concerned.  
  
Later that night, I cried again, just thinking about that afternoon. I simply couldn't understand why he had been so loving and open the night before, and then hurt me so much by walking away and not coming back.  
  
I thought about him every night that week, just before I went to bed. And each night, I would wonder why he did it to me. Why I even cared about someone I had just met. Then I would promise myself to stop thinking about him. But, of course, the next night, he would still come to my mind. His memory tortured my nights for that first week; however, soon it would seep into my days as well.  
  
***  
  
At the next rugby game, one week after he stood me up, I, once again, sat at the top of the bleachers to watch for him. And it seemed that he would not show up again.  
  
Fred sat beside me, saying, "I don't know why you keep looking for him. He's a dirty bastard who isn't worth your time."  
  
I wanted to tell Fred that the stranger wasn't a dirty bastard. That he was the only man I had ever been instantly attracted to. The only man that I wanted to touch; to have touch me. The only man that filled my dreams. However, before I got the chance, I saw him.  
  
My jaw hung open as I watched him at the bottom of the stands, looking up at me with that same smoldering expression he had worn that first night, before he discovered my age. I knew that Fred was trying to talk to me, but his words were somehow lost in the few inches between us. All of me was focused on him, and it was wonderful. I had never been so aware of anyone before.  
  
He made the slightest gesture then turned to walk away. Not saying a word to Fred, I followed the stranger to a more private area of the park, away from the crowds.  
  
Without warning, he shoved me against a tree and thrust his tongue into my open mouth. I felt his hands roving over me, never ceasing their movement. And I had no desire to stop him, even as a hand reached under my shirt. He could have taken me right there and I would have thanked him.  
  
Violently pushing himself off the tree, he paced in front of me. "What have you done to me?"  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked, a part of me wondering if he was having the same recurring dreams about me as I had about him.  
  
He trapped me against the tree again. "Why can't I stop thinking about you?"  
  
I could barely breathe. He had been thinking about me too?  
  
"I never thought I could feel this way about anyone," his face inched closer, "until I met you. Why you?" And then his lips touched mine again and all coherent thought was beyond me.  
  
All that mattered was the places where our flesh came in contact. He was right. I had never felt that way about anyone, as evidenced by the previous week. But how could it have happened? We were only together for mere minutes. It was impossible, and yet, there we stood, unable to let each other go. 


	4. Finally a name

I softly cried out when our lips lost contact. But then he leaned his forehead on my shoulder, slowly moving towards my neck where he nipped at me. The sensation made me acutely aware of the pressure that had been building in my pants.  
  
My whole body trembled beneath his touch, instantly responding to him, and I loved it.  
  
"Who was that you were sitting with?" his lips grazed over my ear.  
  
"...F-Fred...my friend...Fred," I barely managed between gasps for air.  
  
He backed away so the two of us could make eye contact. "Only a friend?"  
  
Was he jealous? No, that was absurd; I didn't even know his name. And yet, I could see the relief in his eyes when I confirmed that I had no romantic interest in Fred.  
  
Hastily, he moved away again to turn his back on me. "You should be getting back to your...friend."  
  
My forehead wrinkled. What had happened? What had caused such an abrupt change? "You...you want me to go?"  
  
Still not turning to me, he answered, "Yes."  
  
I felt tears roll down my cheeks before I realized they had formed. Wiping them away, I wordlessly stumbled out of the wooded area back towards the game. What was wrong with me? Crying over him again? And the worst part was that I knew what Fred would say when I saw him, my eyes glistening and red.  
  
Lucky for me, once I reached the bleachers, the game was over. I really didn't think that I could have sat there as if nothing had happened.  
  
Fred surprised me, though. When he saw me approaching, he only opened his arms to me, and I willingly entered his embrace. He murmured things to me that were so personal, I will never tell another soul. Even the one who had caused my pain.  
  
But while I was weeping into Fred's shirt, he tensed. Unknown to me, my sexy stranger was fast advancing.  
  
The stranger roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Fred. "I thought you said he was just a friend!"  
  
Confusion kept me from answering right away. The declaration was so ridiculous that I couldn't understand why he made it. Then, upon considering my friend's arms around me when the stranger neared, I understood.  
  
"Let go of him!" Fred shouted.  
  
It was so strange to see two men fighting over me. I don't think I'll ever forget the eerie feeling of combined pride and disbelief.  
  
I allowed the stranger to keep his hold on me, not trying to wrench free. "Fred was just hugging me while I cried. There's nothing between us."  
  
His grip loosened as he looked down on me. "You cried? I made you cry?"  
  
Why did I say it? I could have simply said that Fred was giving me a hug. Why did I bring up my tears?  
  
Unfortunately, questions like those couldn't go unanswered. I lowered my eyes, "Yes...to both."  
  
He gently pulled me against his chest, rubbing his hands along my spine. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm...I'm just...frightened. I never meant to hurt you."  
  
The way he spoke to me made it seem like we were an old couple, instead of the strangers that we were.  
  
"Harry? We'd better be getting home," Fred softly said.  
  
Turning to him, I nodded. Then I returned my attention to the stranger, eyes still sparkling in the afternoon light. "I suppose I'll never see you again."  
  
He shook his head. "No, you'll see me. Next week. There'll be another game, right? I'll meet you here. Until then," he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead.  
  
Seconds later, I watched turn away from me once more, but before he could leave, I asked, "What's your name?"  
  
"Snape," he glanced over his shoulder, "Severus Snape." 


	5. Morning showers

That following Friday, I woke up, just as I had every other day that week. I tried to keep my eyes closed as long as possible, since I could still see him...see Severus with my lids blocking out other images that wanted take his place. I didn't have to look down between my legs either; I knew what was down there, waiting to be taken care of, as it had been every morning that week.  
  
Poised at my door, I creaked it open, just enough for me to peek outside into the hall. I looked left, then right, then left again to be sure. With one quick glance at my destination, I bolted from my room, praying that no one was awake yet.  
  
Making it to the bathroom, I shut the door, much too loudly. Dudley would enter soon, so I had to get finished with my business. After my typical bathroom rituals, I turned on the shower and stepped in.  
  
On Monday, I had tried a cold shower, thinking that it could certainly calm me down. However, that was a temporary solution. No more than an hour later, I was ready to go again. Tuesday I had tried to think of something that no one could possibly think sexy...I thought of my aunt naked. Instantly, I started to droop, but I needed to think of something else to go completely flaccid.  
  
As much as it made me sick, I had to do it. I thought of my uncle naked as well. I didn't have any more arousal problems that day, although I did vomit twice. Deciding that this wasn't the best option, I tried something new on Wednesday.  
  
It was actually more of an accident than a plan. Though, since it worked, I won't complain. I had been standing there in the shower and my thoughts, as usual, had gone to Severus. Imagining him naked beside me, I didn't have much of a choice anymore. My hand lowered, teasing, rubbing, squeezing. Minutes later, I was panting, my hand working furiously between my thighs. And with a scream that had brought Dudley running, I exploded all over the shower wall.  
  
When he had burst through the door, I froze, my hand still around my relaxing member. Subtly, I turned my back to him and the transparent shower curtain, barely managing words. "Yes...I'm fine. I slipped...but I'm fine now. Go on...I can finish...my shower alone."  
  
He waited a few moments before calling back, "Finish fast. I need to bathe too."  
  
I almost left my spray on the wall, but decided against it. Taking the last moments of my shower, I cleaned off the wall, and then washed the sweat and milky substance from my body. I didn't have a problem for the rest of the day, much to my glee. So, when Thursday came around, there was no question of what I would do to take care of my morning crisis.  
  
However, Friday, two days after I discovered my delightful solution, I decided to make another change, despite the knowledge that Dudley would be walking in at any moment. I simply couldn't resist.  
  
Closing my eyes, I imagined leaning into Severus, feeling his fingertips moving along my spine. His lips lightly grazing my bare shoulder. His breath on my face. Then, I pretended that it was his hand on my hard flesh instead of mine.  
  
It didn't take long; it never did when I was dreaming of him. The difference was when I was finished; I didn't just empty myself on the wall, I collapsed onto it. My lips were so close to the liquid I spilled for him that I didn't think before automatically opening my mouth to lick it up.  
  
Just short of tasting, my tongue halted once I heard Dudley call, "Harry, hurry up. Mum needs help with breakfast."  
  
Thankfully, he didn't wait for any kind of reply. When I heard the door shut, I closed my mouth and looked up at the evidence of my infatuation. Lowering my eyes, I washed it away. 


	6. Questions

"So, tomorrow is the big day then," Fred murmured, his eyes focused on his lunch.  
  
I beamed at him at the mere mention of my meeting with Severus. "Yeah. I've been nervous all week, but now that it's almost here...well, I just can't wait."  
  
He simply nodded, his lips tightening. "Are you sure about this guy?"  
  
The fact that Severus and I were practically strangers had often crossed my mind over that week. But, somehow, it never really worried me. I knew, deep down, that I could trust him with something as precious as my heart.  
  
Yes, after spending such a short time together, I was falling in love with him. It seemed so crazy, but...right. I was convinced that if he asked me to go away with him that very minute, I would have. No matter what anyone else said. I was so sure that everyone else was just jealous, that's why they weren't supporting my infatuation with Severus.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
The rest of Friday, I spent in joyful anticipation of Saturday and Severus. I didn't pay any attention to my classes; I was too focused on watching the clock. Seconds had never been so long, each felt like weeks. But finally, school was over and I walked home with Fred.  
  
He tried to ask me about Severus again, but I just wouldn't stand for it. "Fred, if you have a problem with Severus, tell me. Don't try and plant doubts in my mind against him."  
  
Fred instantly stopped and faced me, "Okay, I have a problem with Severus. Harry, do you even know how old he is? Just think about how he reacted when he found out you were in high school! You're jailbait to him!"  
  
I had no reply. There really wasn't anything that I could say, since I didn't know his age.  
  
My friend took that as a concession and continued, "And you don't know a thing about him. He barely gave you his name! Does this sound like he's as obsessed with you as you are with him?"  
  
That time, when I couldn't answer, it wasn't that my mind was devoid of responses. My lips parted slightly, and I released a small breath. I dropped my eyes, trying not to be offended or hurt by Fred's words. But it was so hard not to. How could I not have been heartbroken when by best friend said such things to me?  
  
At least he saw the effect his words had on me and left me to walk the rest of the way alone. I needed the time to think. Time to decide what I needed to do about Severus. What if Fred was right? 


	7. Answers

The next day, I walked towards the park for the game, but Severus had been waiting for me. He pulled me into the trees again, where he led me to a blanket spread on the ground nestled on a patch of clovers. I couldn't help but smile at the scene and how my heart fluttered at the thought of lying there beside him.  
  
A few minutes later, I found myself in that very position, my head leaning against his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair. There we stayed for several, blissful hours.  
  
"I've dreamed of this all week," he whispered an instant before he gently kissed my forehead.  
  
I almost cried again, but somehow I managed to control my emotions. That is until he spoke again.  
  
"How did you do it? How did you make me fall in love with you?"  
  
My head rose so that I could look at him. Had he really said that? "You love me?"  
  
He slowly nodded, "I don't know how it happened, but...well, as much as I thought of you this past week, it must be love."  
  
I nibbled on my lip, debating whether I should ask him the question that Fred had implanted in my head. "Severus, how old are you?"  
  
Silence fell around us for what seemed like forever. "Old enough for this not to work."  
  
Pushing myself up, I stared down at him. It, once again, was quiet. I had my answer, no matter how much I didn't want it. Just as I was preparing to stand, he wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pulled me to him. Our lips met, and if felt as though our last kiss. If I could have had anything in the world, I would have asked for that kiss to last forever.  
  
However, it didn't. And far too soon, I was standing with my back to him. "I've thought of you just as much," I softly said, then began my walk back home, the game having already ended.  
  
That was the last time I spoke to him for years, although I did see him every week. He attended every Saturday game, and stood where he could watch me. I gladly let him because I studied him as well. Over those years, I loved him from afar, still listening to Fred berate me for my continuing infatuation. Then at night, I would dream of him and the day that we could be together.  
  
It wasn't until I was one year before I graduated from the local university that I spoke with him again. I would like to say that it was some beautiful, romantic encounter that bespoke of our undying, and yet denied love, but it wasn't.  
  
I decided to go to the Saturday rugby game, for old times' sake, and there he was. My breath caught in my lungs as he turned to see me. And then he smiled, and I knew that this time, we'd work. 


End file.
